Hey Chris! Stop Fearing the Publish Button.

I love to write.

I came into this year with a burning desire to stop wrestling with the writer who shares my skin. I've written a few pieces, not all of them available here, and all it does is add fuel to the fire. The act of writing fills me up. It doesn't drain me. I do it because I "can't not."

But I have a problem.

My writing doesn't always get to play outside with the other boys and girls. Every time I start writing, I feel like it needs to be perfect before I share it. Most days, I love what I write. But it only takes a granule of doubt to stand in between me and the publish button.

In fact when I look at the publish button, most days, this is what I see.

John reminded me of this today in his session at WordCamp ATL. He said I needed to get over the fear and just publish. I know he's right. I am a writer and writing is my art. I want it to be perfect and that quest for perfection is actually hurting my craft. Instead of bringing my writings to completion, setting them free, and growing from the process... I let my ideas wither behind closed doors.

Let's be real here. My soul isn't on the line, just my ego. And the sooner I sacrifice that thing, the better. I let the sharp pointy teeth of the Publish button, and all the insecurities that come with it, beat me before the game even begins.

But not today.

Please Love the Hell Out of Me

I don't have to die to visit Hell, you know. My decisions are empowered to make this Earth a living, breathing Hell. For myself and for those in close proximity. I need to be inoculated. I need a cure. An antidote, as it were.

Human love is like those things. It's capable. Potent. I need it, and when administered properly, it's up to the task. Of course, sometimes it takes routine doses over a period of time, and the results may not be immediately obvious, but it works. Can we agree that in patient, human love there is a quiet, steadfast, resilient aptitude to remove Hell from a place, or better yet, a person?

How much more so, then, could a divine love, assuming one exists, do the same.